At exactly 4:59 and 30 seconds on the afternoon of Monday, April
4th, Jean Su ’05 scurried up the stairs of Robertson Hall
and into the Woodrow Wilson School undergraduate office, with three
copies of her just-bound thesis in her arms and a giant smile on
her face.

A few moments later, the clock struck five, and a hundred-odd
Woody Woo seniors waded — or dove — into the fountain
Jean had just rushed past, officially inaugurating the campus-wide
celebrations of a job well done that begin with the deadline for
seniors in three departments — Politics, English and the Wilson
School — to turn in their theses.

And so, wearing their “Unnecessarily Exclusive Since 1950”
t-shirts, the Woody Woo seniors flailed around in the chilly water,
splashing each other with the unbridled glee of five-year-olds,
pausing only for a few group pictures for posterity. A few seniors
had brought along blow-up rafts, not to mention a handful of freshmen
fraternity pledges —who stood poolside in life guard t-shirts
with white sun block on their noses.

Over next few weeks, the rest of the senior class would eventually
follow suit. Slowly, they emerged from the depths of Firestone,
groggy from a few too many all-nighters, anxious to reunite with
long-lost friends and, most of all, relieved it’s finally
over. “It’s really strange,” deadpanned history
major Abby Williams ’05, whose deadline was the 5th. “I’m
feeling enthusiastic about life again.”

While the day-to-day life of a post-thesis senior is full of pleasures
underclassmen can only dream of this time of year — quiet
mornings in bed, leisurely afternoons sunbathing in the quad, raucous
evenings in the taprooms of Propsect Avenue — there’s
a special, once-in-a-lifetime quality to the long-awaited Due Day.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, I was so excited,”
Sara Fuentes ’05 said. “It was like Christmas.”

Of course, there were those who almost didn’t make it, like
Jean, who said she’d put the final touches on her thesis at
4:33. It was fitting, she explained, that it was her two closest
friends who made it possible for her to get it in on time —
Caroline James ’05, who manned the printing station, and Anne-Riker
Purcell ’05, who stood in line in Pequod. She looked a little
dazed as she spoke — pausing frequently to give big, wet hugs
to nearly everyone she saw — the enormity of it not quite
sunk in yet.

For many of her classmates, though, the process of actually turning
in the thesis was far less climactic. “I should have waited,
this isn’t dramatic enough,” Troy Holland ’05
said as he turned his thesis into the Politics department office
in Corwin Hall. “I definitely could have polished up my conclusion
in the next two hours.” Standing next to him, Preetma Singh
’05 agreed. “I feel like I’m missing something,”
she said as she flipped through the pages one last time. “I
have residual guilt, I feel like I should be working.”

Every senior had to let their baby go sooner or later, of course,
and by 1:00 p.m., a steady stream of seniors filed into the Politics
office, keeping Cheryl Oestrich and her colleagues busy filling
out the final paper work. “It’s better than normal today,”
Oestrich said as she directed a senior to the cupcakes, made by
her granddaughter, she’d brought to celebrate the occasion.
“Lots of people got them in Friday, and they’re coming
in steadily today.”

Some, like Rob Anderson ’05, seemed a bit surprised that
they had made it. “You always doubt it until you finally turn
it in,” Anderson said, before turning to Oestrich and telling
her, “I bet you never thought this day would come.”
She offered only a knowing smile and an evaluation form to fill
it, momentarily dampening Anderson’s spirits. “You’re
killing me, Cheryl,” he said. “I’ve got a tee
time to make.”

A round of golf was likely one of the more subdued celebrations
of the day. For many seniors, finishing their theses meant it was
time to throw back a few cold beverages. At lunch at one eating
club Monday, one senior counted down the seconds till noon —
the acceptable time of day to begin drinking, evidently —
before taking a big swig from his flask. Later in the afternoon,
several of the seniors in the politics office would appear a bit
tipsy, while one English department senior walked across campus
surreptitiously sipping out of a brown paper bag. Others didn’t
even try to hide it: once good friends Fuentes, Holland and Singh
signed the final forms, they pulled a bottle of champagne out of
Holland’s backpack, popped the cork, and passed the bottle
around — in the middle of the Politics Department office.
Oestrich just smiled.

Still, according to Oestrich, this year was pretty tame. “Oh,
it can be quite amusing,” she said. “But I haven’t
seen anyone totally drunk this year.” Meanwhile, a few feet
away, Dorthy Dey — a retired department secretary back to
help with the crunch — recalled a few of the more memorable
deadline days of her thirty-plus year career, mentioning the unfortunate
girl who, weak from staying up all night and missing a few meals,
fainted in the doorway.

Brian Lewandowski ’05, who’d stayed up until 6:30
am the previous night, looked like he was in danger of following
suit as he gave Oestrich his thesis. “It feels amazing, but
I’m exhausted,” he said. “I saw the sun rise over
Nassau Hall, though, that was pretty cool.” The sun would
be out in force all day long, in fact, nary a cloud in site, as
the temperature climbed toward 70 degrees for the first time all
Spring. It was, as U2 once sang, a beautiful day.

“When I wake up tomorrow, I’m going to have nothing
to do expect enjoy Princeton and enjoy my friends and enjoy the
sun,” said Jay Saxon ’05, who stood, towel draped around
his neck, glazing off into the bright sunshine. “It’s
going to be amazing.”

— David Baumgarten ’06 is from Richmond, Va. and is
the Managing Editor for Sports of the Daily Princetonian.